


"Hellooooo, Nurse!"

by SeverinadeStrango



Category: Sengoku Basara, 学園BASARA | Gakuen Basara | Gakuen Basara: Samurai High School (Anime)
Genre: Akechi Mitsuhide is His Own Warning, Akiyama Nobutomo Belongs to @judasetcetera, Choking, Coach Akiyama Nobutomo, Doctor Akechi Mitsuhide, Explicit Sexual Content, Fantasizing, M/M, Medical Examination, Oral Sex, Sexual Fantasy, Sexual Tension, school setting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-05
Updated: 2019-02-05
Packaged: 2019-10-22 16:17:50
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 741
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17665910
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SeverinadeStrango/pseuds/SeverinadeStrango
Summary: Yet another take on a classic PWP trope.





	"Hellooooo, Nurse!"

**Author's Note:**

> Akiyama Nobutomo is a historically based OC created by my friend @judasetcetera.

“I really don’t see why _I_ would need a physical, Doctor,” Nobutomo grumbled, although he obligingly stripped off his tracksuit nevertheless. It usually caused more harm than good to try and argue with the Doctor, with his weirdly insistent ways, and at the end of the day, they likely both just wanted to go home. If the headmaster had declared it necessary, so be it. 

“It’s simply routine, I assure you,” Doctor Akechi answered, quickly scanning through the paperwork on his clipboard – physicals were routine for the students on the team, but never for the faculty. However, given that Headmaster Nobunaga was once again running the Academy, the faculty had learned to simply roll with the punches, as the saying went.

His vitals had already been taken, pulse examined, and blood pressure measured, all of which Akechi had written down in his god-awful handwriting, there were just the standard measurements left – 

“You’ll understand, of course, why I would need to observe more _closely.”_

_“Whoa – “_

Nobutomo had hardly had any time to process what he’d said before he stumbled back, taken off-guard by the sight of Akechi sliding languidly down his torso, his legs, until he was sitting with his legs folded beneath him, that triumphant smirk never leaving his face as he trailed the tip of his tongue over his lips, as he traced his fingers down Nobutomo’s sides, along his hipbones. 

And those eyes. He never even blinked once. Against quite literally all of his better judgement, Nobutomo felt himself hardening in the Doctor’s hand, and he heard rather than saw the smirk that spread across his face. 

“What’s this, Nobutomo-kun?” 

“You don’t – “

“Do you _want_ me to?”

The silence that followed was almost painful in how tense it was, then a split second’s decision – 

“Yes.”

And then those purple lips wrapped around his cock as if this was perfectly natural, as if this was only a daily happenstance for him. For all Nobutomo knew, it could have been – he’d learned to put nothing past Mitsuhide by this point. Including this. _Definitely_ including this.

 _“Oh_ god – “

“Hmmm.” Mitsuhide laughed low in this throat in delight, shuffling closer and trailing the tips of his slender fingers up Nobutomo’s thighs as his eyes fluttered shut, giddy and high and reckless. If this had been during hours, surely anyone could have walked in on them – in fact, Nobutomo was fairly certain that the headmaster hadn’t actually left yet. Not that he was about to say anything, he wouldn’t dare risk having Mitsuhide _stop_ when he was closer than he had been in weeks.

All he’d been able to think about was him. Every lonely night and every sweaty, interrupted dream, it was always him, his face, his hair, and he knew, there was no way he _didn’t._ Nobutomo had long since learned not to question Akechi’s strange knowledge of – well, _everything._ It had proven more useful than otherwise, even if it _did_ serve to make him even more unnerving than he already was.

As if he could sense his thoughts drifting, Mitsuhide stopped moving entirely, staring up at him with those huge, impossibly bright eyes, almost as if accusing him. How dare you. Those pretty purple lips stretched tight around him, Mitsuhide swallowed hard once, then twice, as if determined to drink him down, and that did it – that and the endless restless nights and his never ceasing thoughts. In a sudden loss of his own control, Nobutomo grabbed Mitsuhide by the hair and yanked him forwards, enough to choke him as he spilled down his throat with a low grunt, heart pounding and blood rushing and god this was the best he could _ever_ remember feeling. 

Before him, Mitsuhide sat back heavily on his heels, lipstick smeared and his eyes red and watery and Nobutomo might have felt slightly bad – if it wasn’t for the grin slapped half-sideways across his face. He’d enjoyed this. They both had. Mitsuhide watched him while he dressed again, observant as he always was, because of course he had taken particular pleasure in this test subject – and he wouldn’t want to miss a single detail, better to draw more accurate conclusions that way, inconsistent results would need _further_ testing or something of that sort. 

How promising. Nobutomo cleared his throat awkwardly.

“Good day, Doctor,” he said, and then turned and left, feeling Mitsuhide’s gaze follow him all the way out the door. 

What a strange man indeed.


End file.
